


like static

by savi0urdr3amer



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Light D/s, Power Play, Sombramaker, Spiderbyte, Widowhacker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:46:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8482981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savi0urdr3amer/pseuds/savi0urdr3amer
Summary: Sombra thinks that she can conquer Widowmaker, but Widowmaker has far different plans in mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> what do you even call this pairing??? sombrawidow?? sombramaker??? i saw widowhacker somewhere and i'm also all about that ship name for them?? no matter what you call it i've been thirsty for this pairing since i saw sombra's new short and i'm 600% sure there's unresolved sexual tension between them lmao ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) so here's a sorta pwp drabble that i probably will expand on later? maybe?
> 
> also pls consider: widowmaker/sombra/tracer ot3 fic. brb while i drool just thinking about it

_Submission_ is a word that’s absent from Widowmaker’s vocabulary; for someone who’s fought all her life, she’s gotten good at picking up on all the fancy words for loss, and she’ll be damned if she lets this one slink towards her in the form of a violet girl whose fingers work faster than her words.

“Not today, _chérie_ ,” Widowmaker hisses, and in that moment she’s far more like a cobra than a spider. Sombra is her prey, and she strikes so fast Sombra blinks and misses it. With a sneer, Widowmaker goes for her throat with her teeth. “You still need to learn your place.”

Sombra is playful but not naïve. She easily picks up on the patronizing edge in Widowmaker’s voice, and she lets out a sharp, acrid hiss when Widowmaker nips at her jugular. Dissatisfied, she shifts beneath the sniper in an attempt to regain control, but Widowmaker’s quick to shove her down, her slender fingers wrapping around her wrists and pinning her in place.

“Why don’t you teach me then?” Sombra says, her voice low and raspy. She fights back a gasp as Widowmaker’s lips brush against her skin, tracing her jawline with an untamed and vicious desire that makes heat settle in her chest. “Show a new kid the ropes, yeah?”

The sound Widowmaker makes is something between a scoff and a dry laugh.

“You’re mistaken if you think I give everyone this treatment, _petite fille_.” Widowmaker speaks like her words are law, like she can’t help being above her, and she cranes her head upwards, her molten gold irises glinting like a beast’s.

Sombra doesn’t blink as her eyes meet Widowmaker’s; instead she narrows them, searching for any sign of weakness that she can find, thinking of her as another code to unravel, another sequence to hack. This is her way of showing Widowmaker that she’s not powerless, that she needs to watch her back. She is someone to be reckoned with, someone to be feared. Surely someone with eight eyes must know that.

Yet, being as cunning as she is, Sombra finds nothing in her eyes. No secrets to uncover, no hints of weakness. There’s an emotional disconnect that coats Widowmaker’s eyes like a film, and she grits her teeth, both in disappointment and frustration, and lets out a silent huff that Widowmaker more than surely picks up on. Furrowing her brows, she watches the widow’s pale, plump lips purse in cruel curiosity, her expression reminiscent of a predator toying with its food. It’s like she’s playing with her, watching her writhe for her own amusement.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s so special about me then?” Sombra murmurs, her claws digging into the skin of her wrists.

Widowmaker leans in close to her, the ends of her ponytail tickling Sombra’s exposed ear. Her lips hover just over Sombra’s, so close that they prickle and ache for more, and Sombra’s hips instinctively jut upwards, seeking more friction. Widowmaker happily grinds down on her, but it’s clear she seeks to tease far more than she does to satisfy.

“I see a lot of similarities between us, chérie.” Widowmaker purrs, her words dangerously husky.

She releases one of Sombra’s hands, though the look in her eyes reinforces the hacker that she’s not to move it. Her steely expression is almost intimidating, even for someone like Sombra, who’s lied to the face of her targets, deceived those who thought they’d earned her affection.

Widowmaker’s touch is lighter than a feather. Yet Sombra can still feel her fingers trailing down her body, tracing over the ridges in her armor, and she shivers beneath her, guiltily admitting to herself that she loves this whole charade as much as she hates it.

“We’re both intelligent. Sly. Intriguing.” Widowmaker pauses before each word, articulating every syllable with a slow punctuality that burns. “Not to mention mysterious… though I must admit, your emotions are written all over your face. You leave traces behind.”

Widowmaker places a brief, hungry kiss on her lips and holds Sombra’s bottom lip between her teeth as she pulls away. Gauging her reaction, she waits another second before biting down on it harder, drawing out the sensation until Sombra’s practically squirming beneath her, and she fails to conceal a pain-laced gasp of pleasure that makes Widowmaker dizzy with power.

“See?” Widowmaker’s gaze locks with the hacker’s again and she’s delighted to see them fogged, filled with an arousal that makes heat swell up between her legs. “And I have a theory about how you’ll look when I fuck you. It would sure be a sight, _non?_   To have you gasping and begging for more… Why don’t we see if you’re as expressive then?”

Widowmaker's hand continues to glide downward until it’s hovering over Sombra’s groin, her skilled fingers fidgeting for zippers and clasps to undo.

Sombra gasps again, in both desire and defeat, knowing that it’s far too late now to gain the upper hand. But later she knows she’ll have her way with Widowmaker, no matter how skilled she is.

“Deal. But I’ll have you know that computers aren’t the only thing I’m good at getting into.” Sombra’s voice is far more breathless than she’d wanted it to be, and her threat sounds more seductive than it does daunting, but if she’s honest with herself it’s exactly what she wanted.

Slinking downwards between her legs, Widowmaker’s gaze shoots upwards, cool and calculated.

“We’ll see about that, _chérie_.”

And then pleasure shoots through her body like a wave, and for once in her life losing has never made Sombra feel more alive.


End file.
